| Unexplored Territories: Who's In Charge Here?
By Charlene Brusso
posted: 05:32 pm ET
11 December 2000
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You
might not have noticed this the first few times you watched Farscape,
but just think for a minute. Here we have a ship in space, an enormous,
complex vessel with the power to starburst from system to system, star
to star, over vast reaches of space, and she has no captain.
No chain of command, no single
individual responsible for directing and overseeing the actions of ship
and crew. Instead, we have a group of people with unique agendas, prejudices,
and philosophies, thrown together by circumstance and a common enemy (at
least, in the beginning) and gradually coming to terms with each other's
differences. Is this any way to run a starship?
Goodbye, Starfleet
Farscape has been
compared to the British SF show Blake's Seven for its unusual mix
of anarchy and democracy -- but remember, Blake was still nominally the
captain. The Liberator was his ship, even if the crew wasn't all he might've
wished.
Moya, on the other hand,
is a renegade prison ship liberated from the military might of the Peacekeepers,
stolen by escaped convicts. That doesn't bode well for any plans to create
the typical well-oiled machine most starship and space station crews aspire
to be.
Does Moya need a captain?
First, take a look at her "crew".
John Crichton is a
scientist who put up with Earth-based IASA military regs only to get into
space and carry out some exciting research that couldn't be done any other
way. A skilled shuttle mission specialist, he's never been the typical
brush-cut "Federation cadet" type that thrives on following other people's
orders, or longs to lead in any way. Not exactly a loner, he's definitely
an individualist. Not command material at all.
Zhaan is a convicted
Delvian anarchist -- but dig a little deeper and we learn that her actions
actually prevented rebel Delvians from turning her world over to the grim
control of the Peacekeepers. Her self-discipline and love of peace and
balance speak well of her ethics, but her crimes have left a
dark spot in her soul that makes her less than reliable. From the rare
occasions when Zhaan has power-tripped, we've learned she can be a harsh
taskmistress.
As an ex-Dominar, Rygel
certainly has experience leading people, but his general greed and "it's
good to be king" philosophy make it unlikely that he'd be anyone's first
pick to captain Moya.
Chiana, likewise,
would never take the vote. Her youth and reckless nature, as well as her
admitted difficulty trusting people, probably make the idea of commanding
others more frightening than desirable to her.
What about Moya's fierce
warriors, Luxan soldier Ka D'Argo and ex-Peacekeeper Aeryn Sun?
Here are two people who surely understand the need for order and discipline,
yet they are in many ways the least likely candidates for the role of Moya's
captain.
D'Argo still keenly feels
the loss of honor from the time he assumed the guise of a Luxan general
during a pitched battle in order to save his fellow troopers. Falsely imprisoned
for the murder of his Sebacean wife, his will is now focused on finding
his lost son, and once that quest is finished, he's vowed to find a place
where the two can live in peace.
D'Argo knows how to command,
but his heart isn't in it anymore.
Aeryn, likewise, has been
yanked out of the only life she's ever known. One-time elite Peacekeeper
pilot, she was born to give and follow orders. But in her time aboard Moya,
she's had her horizons expanded far beyond what she could've imagined.
She's learned that life is more than a series of military operations, especially
after she found herself injected with Pilot's DNA and exposed directly
to the instincts of an alien mind and body.
Aeryn has given orders when
necessary, but only for critical short-term situations. In the long run,
her own stubborn pride and growing sense of connection to her companions
keep her from wanting to assume any control over them.
Pilot, with his symbiotic
link directly to Moya's innards and brain, certainly knows the most about
the ship's abilities -- and how best to convince her to use them -- but
by that same token, he would never presume to command her.
If anything, he considers
himself the Leviathan's protector, interpreting the outside world for her,
keeping the rest of the crew from making unreasonable demands of her.
Captain of her own destiny
So who would be captain?
What about Moya herself? After all, the Leviathan is an autonomous, thinking,
feeling being. Until the escaping convicts blew
off her restraining slave collar so she could starburst away from Peacekeeper
control, Moya had never known freedom. In
the beginning she might have welcomed a captain to guide her, as her
naive offspring Talyn
accepted Crais.
After a few million light-years
of travel with her current companions, however, Moya has developed her
own highly evolved sense of individuality and self-preservation -- especially
after the time D'Argo, Zhaan and Rygel held Pilot down and chopped off
one of his arms in order to trade his DNA to a nefarious researcher who
promised them maps to find their way home.
That betrayal above all others
is likely to keep Moya from accepting any official captain ever again.
To the Leviathan, as well as to everyone aboard her, trust is -- and might
always be -- a dangerously rare commodity.
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